WOW. I am SO happy with this story! I got lots of reviews! I mean they're not like overflowing but I think it's a pretty decent amount considering I only have one chapter up. Also, about 2/3 or more of the reviews (which were almost all positive, some were just pointing out the following...) said that Hermione is turning 18 in a year anyway, so they can't keep her hostage for three years, or something along those lines.

Good point, guys! Lol. I seriously didn't think of that when I was writing, like I said, I had the idea and had to write. So in this chapter I will think of some method to my madness (my English teacher always uses that phrase...oy.), forgive me if it's kind of weird. Like I might just make up something about the laws in France (change it to 19 or 20 or something), but I have no idea if it's true or not, so please don't hold me to it!

Oh, and to all of you who said that her parents can't hold her hostage, I did do my research on that one, and yes, they can. It sucks, I know. But they can do whatever they want with her, as long as it's not, you know, illegal, until she's of age.

SO...yea, that's it. Speaking of Harry Potter, by the way, did anyone see Today on...Tuesday, I guess it was? With Daniel Radcliffe? Now, I think he's a great actor and all, but I'm really not much of a die-hard psycho fan. You know, with the webpages and the fan clubs and stuff. Not that it's not cool, it's just not me.

But has anyone noticed how cute he is now?! I mean seriously, I was watching and I was like "holy crap!". Lol. And he's fourteen, like me. Lol. Just had to mention that.

ON WITH THE CHAPTER!

(By the way, for some reason beyond my control, fanfiction eliminates asterisks and lines and all that good stuff I use to separate Author's Notes and changes in POVs. So I will signify them instead with large spaces. Sorry for the confusion!)

Oh. sorry, one more note! Sorry that this chapter gets a little dull around the part where Hermione is reminiscing about the letter to Dumbledore and the meetings and all that, but it was necessary to explain all that stuff, because it's important to the story. Sorry! Lol.

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Chapter Two: The Surprise

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Hermione grimaced as she looked down at her paper. It was a letter to Ron, she'd just finished with one to Harry. She couldn't send them, of course, but wrote them regularly every week anyway. It was her method of keeping sanity. That and the meetings, of course.

There were eight other people from her year at Hogwarts here, including herself. Four Hufflepuffs, Two Ravenclaws, and one Slytherin. She was the only one from Gryffindor, she she didn't know anyone too well. There were five girls and three boys. From Hufflepuff were Gretchen Wylder, Justin Finch-Fletchly, Monica Kiester, and James Albertine, from Ravenclaw were Sarah Gardner and Patricia Mitchell, and the lone Slytherin (ugh) was a boy she'd never even seen before, by the name of Paul Cohen.

Hermione could tell the moment she arrived that most of the parents had done a good job of brainwashing their kids (hardly kids anymore, honestly!) into thinking this was for the best. It reminded her a bit of the times between Fourth and Sixth years, when so many students had been convinced that Harry Potter was a no-good conceited little twirp. Either that or a murderer. Depended what their families told them.

Only three others, besides herself, were being as "rebellious" as herself. Not really rebellious, considering they hadn't taken any public action yet, but the meetings were something. They were plotting in secret, was all. She, Monica, Justin, and Sarah were ones with the only common sense, it seemed, in the whole place.

Hermione's mind went back to the car ride from King's Cross Station. Her parents seemed very edgy and polite around her, as if afraid she might try to hurt one of them. Which she was tempted at doing. She knew that they thought this was best, and that they loved her very much, and wouldn't try to make her do something against her will, unless they thought it was an emergency.

And even Hermione had to admit that it was. Dumbledore and the rest of the staff hadn't quite let on about the true danger they were in, but Hermione had a subscription to the Daily Prophet from which she got the truth. There were killings every day, hundreds or even thousands of death eaters were on the loose, doing as much damage as they could, in denial that their Master was gone forever. And, of course, their aims were Muggle-borns. Many of the Muggle-born kids in her grade had been pulled out of school just weeks before graduation. But she thought this was worse. The isolation.

And so Hermione had pulled out a pen (a quill would be much too messy in the bumpy car) and began to write a letter to Dumbledore, one she actually planned to send, on plain loose-leaf paper. She had sent Mavis, the gray tawney that had brought the news in the first place, straight to him. It would take three days, she was told, to get to France, and she explained the great urgency of his reply, which must come by night and before three days were up. But it had been no help.

The letter she sent had been desperate, begging a way she could leave, or some law against keeping her in France. Wasn't there some age limit where she was free of her parents?! There had to be, obviously.

Miss Granger,

The letter had said,

I am sorry I cannot be of greater help to you. You may feel trapped right now, but you know that your parents love you very much and are only looking out for your wellbeing. I have been informed that seven other families have decided to go to France after graduation as well, and I hope that you find some familiar faces.

But I must ask you, please, to keep an open mind. There is a law, in fact, that you are free of your parents' care once you turn 19, but you are only 17, and just. Though I don't agree with your parents' decision, I do not wish for you to go against their wishes.

Good luck to you, and I trust you will find a way to keep the witch in your blood within you.

Professor Albus Dumbledore

Hermione had received the owl, a very exhausted owl, on the second night in her hotel room. She'd actually shed a few tears over it (she'd been in that kind of mood lately), but understood where the Headmaster was coming from. It wasn't as though she were being kidnapped, but...different. It was quite hard to explain to anyone who hadn't been in the same situation. It were as though, she had once written in a letter to Ron, someone like Mrs. Weasley suddenly decided to do the same thing to him, or something just as outrageous. It was completely unbelievable and unlike her parents, but she supposed unconditional love could do that to people in a time of danger.

The meetings had started a week or so after she and the others had arrived in France, and moved into what was actually quite a cozy little house. She was next door to the girl named Gretchen (on the other side was a Muggle who she didn't know – there were other people living in the little town, too, not just the eight families), and down the street lived Justin and Paul. The eight families often ate dinner together at nights, as the parents encouraged their children to bond and become friendly. Although Hermione suspected that they also wanted the others to convince the four "rebels" (ha, ha) to come back to Muggle society. Luckily, it wasn't working. Although the bonding thing was going quite well. Except that the adults didn't understand why Hermione and Paul simply refused to talk to each other.

Hermione, in fact, did (at the beginning) try to be a bit civil with him, imagining what it might have been like to be sorted into Slytherin, being of Muggle decent and everything. She herself had been called a Mudblood on numerous occasions. In fact, Hermione began to wonder if the Sorting Hat really was coming loose at the seams (no pun intended), sorting him into the house that favored blood over everything else. But she didn't ask, because frankly she didn't want that much to know.

After dinner one night, Hermione approached Sarah (who was very quiet and not good friends with Patricia, the only other Ravenclaw). She had begun to make discussion, when Sarah's eyes had suddenly welled up with tears.

Hermione had not far from panicked, not used to making people cry, but soon learned that Sarah was just missing her boyfriend, a nice boy named Rob who Hermione knew from her Advanced Ancient Arts class. Sarah, in fact, shared the same feelings as Hermione about France. After many conversations with the others, Sarah and Hermione had picked out who had the same feelings as them, and begun the meetings.

At the first meeting, Hermione had transfigured sticks and flowers into what appeared to be wands. It was quite obvious, really, and she was surprised she hadn't thought of it earlier. She knew the parents would want to confiscate the ever so dangerous wizarding tools, and Hermione, Sarah, and the others handed in the fakes just two days later.

Hermione shook herself. Enough! Just finish with the letter before the candle goes out, it's already half gone! And it's not like you can turn on a light at night around this place without people wondering what you're up to.

She groaned and picked up her pen again, glaring at the very un-parchment-like piece of paper. She'd grown so used to the elegant quills and parchments, it was almost a drag to have to write with the more convenient but uglier pen and paper.

Dear Ron,

Hello again. I've just finished my letter to Harry. I hope you're still trying to get in that owl, because I can't actually send any of these letters unless you come up with a plan. Yesterday I had another one of my meetings. It's so good to hold a wand! We worked some more on practicing some more difficult spells, we finished practicing the basic ones last week. It's not like we're learning anything, (sigh.), how could we? But it's to practice so we don't forget. I've explained this to you about 5 times already, but haven't sent any of the letters, so I'm saying it again. I miss you. I really, really miss you. And Harry, of course. And Ginny. And your Mum. And my mom, for that matter. It seems as though she's a different person, she's so taken over by this paranoia. I'm getting a bit sappy, sorry. Well, got to go before I burn down the house with this candle. I'd say write back, but I might go to tears when I started to write that in Harry's letter.

Love, Hermione

Hermione glanced at the digital clock on her bedside table. Admittedly, it was nice to have electricity again. It was much more convenient, although she did quite enjoy the way of life she'd experienced at Hogwarts.

It was 5:27, almost time for dinner.

Hermione locked up the two newly-written letters in a small red box she'd gotten at a shop in London years ago, and stuffed it into her drawer.

Then, from the same drawer, she pulled out a small calendar. Wizards hardly used calendars anymore, but she'd bought this one in Hogsmeade the weekend after she got the letter from her parents. It was full of scenes from the tiny all-magic town, and the pictures moved, as all wizard photographs did.

She'd been checking off days since the middle of June, when she arrived in France the first day. She checked off December 23. 6 Months, 17 Days, the little box read. She'd been here almost seven months! It seemed like it had been much shorter and much longer at the same time.

Hermione sighed, watching the little people mill in cloaks mill around outside Honeyduke's. She flipped through all the months, as she often did, just to get a glimpse into the wizarding world.

A knock came at the door. Blinking a few times to warn off oncoming tears, Hermione shoved the calendar back into the door, quickly locking it and sticking the key in her pocket.

"Come in." she said, in what she hoped was a casual voice.

"We're going to leave for dinner, dear." her mother said, sticking her head in the doorway. A few tiny flurries escaped into the warmth with her, only to melt instantly as they landed on the ground. It was still too early for real snow, but Hermione had always liked flurries.

"Okay, Mum," she relied, grabbing her jacket and heading out the door. It was a pleasant ride to the dining hall, a place where many people in the tiny village came to eat. It was a bit like a summer camp Hermione had attended when she was eight, only with better food, of course. Once they had ordered and paid, the Grangers got a table next to the Kiesters. While the adults were busy discussing the computer classes the "children" were taking (there had been no such thing as Hogwarts, and Hermione hadn't bothered to learn how to properly use one over her vacations, not seeing how she'd need to know. Little did she know she wouldn't be leading a magic adult life, but a Muggle one, at least for the time being, and the parents seemed to think it was quite an important skill to have), Monica slipped Hermione a note scrawled on a paper napkin.

Meeting tonight- 7? Reviewing charms.

Hermione nodded, crumpling the napkin and stuffing it in her pocket. Charms weren't her favorite, but it was important to review anything, or they might forget it. And that was unacceptable.

Two hours later, Hermione found herself sitting in the computer room, established in Justin's house for all the teenagers to use, along with Justin, Monica, and Sarah. They had all told their parents they were going to a class, making up something about keyboarding skills.

In fact, they were reviewing hovering and shrinking charms. Not exactly related, but they weren't particular what they reviewed, just as long as it was everything they remembered.

"Apprictum Motus. Wingardium Leviosa." Monica said, promptly shrinking and then lifting a chair in the corner. "Oh, this is nothing. I wish we could get some books, then we could actually do something new!" she complained, a very ambitious person. Hermione had taking quite a liking to her. Monica brushed her short, dark out of her face, her brown eyes focusing this time on a computer.

"No! No. A chair we can make larger again, but who knows what will happen if we mix magic and electricity?" Justin said. He had brown hair and eyes, and was quite tall, with a long pointed nose.

Sarah, with her long blond hair and blue eyes was quite pretty, but very quiet around others. Except in the meetings. She was very smart, and had a tendancy to be terribly take-charge around her peers, often obnoxious and bossy. Hermione found this quite surprising, given her first impression of Sarah.

"Yes, Monica, really. And who knows what you could do anyway? The 'tum' in your 'Apprictum' is much too drawn out, it should be short and snappy. See? Look how much cleaner my chair looks. Yours looks a bit uneven and wobbly, like some parts are more shrunk than others."

Hermione inwardly groaned, having a flashback of herself when she was twelve. No wonder Harry and Ron had hated her at first.

"Sarah." Monica said, obviously making an effort to be patient. "I have been doing this charm since my fourth year, and Professor Flitwick had nothing to say about it, so I don't see why you should."

Things went on like this for about another half an hour, until they went home.

Hermione opened her door and stepped inside the warm house.

"Hello, dear. How have you been doing with those computers?" her father asked, smiling at her from the chair he was reading in.

"Quite well, Dad, they're really fascinating. It's interesting to see how Muggles have gotten along without magic."

"Well, we do try." he said, smiling and offering some hot chocolate. Hermione declined, wanting to be alone in her room. She started down the hallway to her door, which creaked a little as she opened it and stepped inside.

She plunked down on her bed, staring at her secret drawer. It was the only comfort she had left. Hermione pulled the key from her pocket, also taking out and shredding her note, making sure no one would find it. She put the key in the tiny lock and pulled out her calendar, again flipping through the moving pictures.

As she saw scene after scene, her vision became more and more blurred with tears. By the time she got to November, the fifth was a bit wet. She wiped her eyes quickly, and threw the calendar at the wall. There was no use reminiscing!

But suddenly something caught her eyes, something that must have been taped to the back of the calendar, because she hadn't noticed it before. Something that, surely, could not have been there before, or she would have noticed it.

Hermione - Tomorrow, edge of woods.Midnight. Important. Come alone, and tell no one.

Hermione recognized the handwriting as what was probably Justin's, it was a boy's. And the note wasn't signed, something members of the meetings were always careful about. They didn't want anyone to know what they were up to, after all. She folded the note and stuck it in her drawer.

"Duh, I won't bring or tell anyone. Honestly, Justin, what do you think I am?" she said, realizing that she had both said "duh", and was talking to herself at the same time. "I'm a mess." she said softly, retrieving the calendar and putting it and the note back into her drawer.

The next day Hermione woke up bright and early. She rushed into the kitchen, oddly happy. But who could be upset on Christmas Eve?

"Good morning, honey!" her mother said from the stove, where she was making breakfast. "Happy Christmas Eve!"

"Happy Christmas Eve, Mum." she said, kissing her on the cheek. The presents were never opened until Christmas morning, of course, but she was excited nonetheless. Plus there was the prospect of another meeting, this one more secret than ever, tonight. Usually there was only one a week.

The day went by fairly quickly, Hermione lounged around her house and didn't do much of anything except read. After dinner, she found herself sitting at her desk once more.

The clock on her table read 9:17. Just a few more hours! Hermione pulled out some paper and a pen from her secret drawer.

24 December

Dear Harry,

Hi! I know I just wrote yesterday, but it's Christmas Eve and I don't have much more to do. I have an extra-secret meeting tonight, in the forest at midnight, as opposed to after dinner in various public places where it sounds believable to be. It sounds exciting though, don't you think? Anyway, I've been missing you and Ron more and more lately. It's terrible here, but not so bad at the same time. That made no sense. It's not so bad, the things we do and the people and everything, I guess I meant that the entire idea of it, this whole isolation thing, and knowing that I'm part of it, is the terrible part.

Yes. That's what I meant. So...where are you? What are you doing? Where have you been? I hope you're not still at the Dursley's. Maybe you and Ron are together, even. In that case, hi Ron! Anyway, I miss you both very much. More than you can imagine. I just want to leave! I'd better go, before I start with this nonsense crying business again.

Love, love, love,

Hermione

Hermione followed the usual procedure of hiding and locking up the letters and supplies, then pretended to go to sleep, claiming to her parents that she was tired.

Hermione looked at her clock, alarmed. Had she dozed off?! What time was it?!

11:53. Good. She quietly pulled on a jacket, praying that her parents had gone to sleep. Apparently they had, since she heard no signs of anyone waking up when her door creaked. She tiptoed to the door, peering out the window. It was snowing!

The ground was blanketed in a lovely white. It sparkled in the moonlight. She gazed at it for a moment before opening a small closet and pulling out her boots. She also wrapped a scarf around her neck, not knowing how long the meeting would be.

She pulled the door open, being blasted with cold air, and stepped outside into the silent night. Hermione started off towards the woods near her house, shivering a bit. It took about five minutes to get there, and by the time she did she was quite cold indeed.

She stood, hugging herself a little, wondering where exactly she was supposed to meet the others. The paced back and forth a little, more in an attempt to keep warm than to look for anyone.

Suddenly she gasped. There, about fifteen feet away or so, was a small box. It was wrapped in red, with a large, red bow. It reminded her of Gryffindor, she thought with a smile. She walked towards it, quite curious as to what a present was doing outside in the middle of the night.

"What is this?" she said softly. "It's not even Christmas yet!" she picked it up, examining it closely.

"Actually," a voice said from behind her. "It's 12:01. Happy Christmas, Hermione."

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A/N: WOO-HOO! Let's hear it for cliffhangers!

So, how was that chapter? I know, I know. It was a little filled with dull (but necessary) information. Sorry if it dragged on a bit. Please, please, please, please, PLEASE review!

Need I say more?

Wait, yes! This chapter is TEN PAGES LONG ON MICROSOFT WORD! That's a total record! YEEHAW!

Oh, and one more thing. I know Hermione's birthday is September 19, even though it's not sure whether she's fifteen in the fifth book of fourteen. In this case, I made it fourteen, which means she was sixteen when she graduated, but is seventeen now. Which explains why Dumbledore said she was seventeen, and "only just", because she got out of Hogwarts in June and now it's December and she's seventeen now. Yea.

Wait, another thing. Two, actually. One is that I know I kind of randomly stuck in that little bossiness on Sarah's part, but once I started describing her I realized she was a total Mary Sue, so I panicked, lol. Well not quite panicked. But that will also come into play later in the story, I think, so it really wasn't TOTALLY random.

The other thing is that, if any of you noticed, Hermione's dad didn't get mad at all when she was talking about how it's "amazing how Muggle get on without magic," and all that. I did this purposely to kind of show that her parents aren't trying to be cruel and they're not like the Dursley's with the magic-phobia thing, they really are just very concerned and are taking extreme steps. Thanks!

Review! (please)